


Drip, Drip, Drop Little April Showers

by Hokum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky likes coco, Fluff, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Short & Sweet, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokum/pseuds/Hokum
Summary: It's late, far too late for even the Winter Soldier to still be awake, but Bucky likes listening to the sound of the rain outside. He also likes it when Steve comes to sit beside him with a cup of hot coco and a blanket.





	Drip, Drip, Drop Little April Showers

 

The rain in New York has been falling for days now; great thick sheets of it have battered the city, turned umbrellas inside out and sent the citizens dashing through the streets. Bucky likes the sound of the rain and somehow the rhythmic pattering of water against the glass seems to soothe him. It’s late, too late to be up, but he doesn't sleep well most days. There’s too many bad memories floating around in his head for him to even be able to rest his head for half an hour. At the special clinic T’challa sent him too, they had to teach him how to sleep properly again but it’s not something he takes any comfort in. Maybe, once upon time, Bucky Barnes enjoyed spending a lazy Sunday in bed but now, even closing his eyes for more than a few minutes, fills him with dread. He likes listening to Steve sleep though; that steady rise and fall of the other mans breathing is even more calming then the rain drops. 

 

One of the walls in Steve’s new apartment is just one huge pane of glass, with a window seat tucked underneath it. On nights like this, when his dreams are filled with blood and screaming, Bucky likes to sit and watch the people go by and wonder what they're doing, why there rushing for that cab or which restaurant they might pick. It’s nice to watch other peoples lives when you haven't quite figured out your own. He still doesn't like leaving the apartment but this way he still gets to see whats going on around him but from safely inside his own home. 

 

Bucky turns around quickly, startled by the most minuscule of sounds coming from the living room. The old habits of his body seem to take over as his brain is still wired in to defend itself, violently if necessary. He’s got a knife tucked into one of his thick socks and there’s a gun tapped underneath the coffee table, he can fight his way out of with his fists if he needs too. Some part of him wishes it wasn't like this, that he could just sit and listen to the raindrops without his metal hand automatically balling itself up into a a fist, even as a dark shape looms towards him. Then the lamp clicks on and all Bucky’s violent thoughts melt away. It’s just Steve; holding a blanket and a cup of something hot and sweet smelling.

 

“Didn’t want you to get cold,” Steve says as sheepishly, even though Bucky is wearing sweats, a hoodie and a pair of thick bed socks. Even when Steve cranks the heating up full blast he still feels the icy chill all the way down into his bones. The doctors say that it’s all in his head but Bucky’s not so sure. The cold seems to follow him everywhere, a constant reminder of what he is and where he came from.

 

“Buck?” Steve must have been talking to him whilst he was lost in thought. He does this a lot but Steve never seems to mind, not even when he’s repeated himself several times and Bucky still hasn't answered.  

 

Bucky still doesn't say anything so Steve presses a cup of hot chocolate into his hand; his favourite. It’s even got the tiny little marshmallows floating on top and he pokes them with his non metal finger as they bob back up to the surface. He used to hate that tiny feeling he would get when he experienced something like this; it had taken the combined efforts of Sam and Steve to explain to him that it was happiness he was feeling. Bucky had had to explain to them both that after what he had done, he didn't deserve any form of happiness and would they please not bring him any more hot chocolate. Steve had persisted though, even when Bucky had thrown scalding hot coco at him and refused to entertain the idea that he should even be allowed to feel in the smallest bit of joy.

 

“Do you mind if I sit too?” Steve asks him and Bucky shakes his head as he scoots over to make room.

 

Steve doesn't talk which is a relief to Bucky; he just wants some peace and quiet for a bit, until the screaming in his head starts all over again. Next to him, Steve is carefully unfolding the blanket and Bucky allows the other man to carefully wrap it around his shoulders, as he continues to stare out of the huge window onto the city bellow. He’s still not good with touching or eye contact or talking in general really but he’s trying. Sometimes it’s hard trying to make all the pieces that used to make him, him fit together and he’s sure that a few of the pieces of his puzzle are missing. Steve, ever kind and gentle Steve, just smiles at him and shuffles a few inches closer. Then they sit in a comfortable silence and watch the life on the street play out bellow them. Sometimes Bucky thinks he might love Steve, if he’s even sure what love is, and perhaps one day he’ll tell him but for now he’s content to just sit in silence with his best friend.

**Author's Note:**

> My first little foray into writing a Marvel piece; I hope you enjoyed it! All comments and questions are greatly appreciated!


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